


Trapped

by SoraHoshi



Category: DCU (Comics)
Genre: Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Grinding, Hand Jobs, Humor, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 16:26:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,299
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17964032
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoraHoshi/pseuds/SoraHoshi
Summary: Traveling in a small space pod for half a day with the bane of your existence makes your mind meander into dangerous territory.





	Trapped

**Author's Note:**

  * For [D_A_Mante](https://archiveofourown.org/users/D_A_Mante/gifts).



> I started writing this a long time ago and was pretty far into it when my computer froze and I lost everything. I got frustrated as all hell and stopped working on it. Going back to it, I like the prompt and the couple so I figured I may as well try to get it done this time. I need the practice in smut writing anyway.
> 
> The  [ prompt ](http://vidavitavi.tumblr.com/post/161720277685) is from  [ risartfarts ](https://risartfarts.tumblr.com/) / [ D_A_Mante ](http://archiveofourown.org/users/D_A_Mante) : Trapped in a tiny-ass space pod
> 
> Sorry this took so long, hon!

Of fucking course Hal would be stuck in this mess with the biggest asshole in the League. They were sent on the simplest mission: check in with the planet, make sure their communications were working properly so there wasn’t another malfunction, and be on their merry-fucking-way back to earth. Hal was sent for obvious reasons. The area was in his sector and he knew the planet well. He was even familiar with a little bit of their most commonly spoken language without the help of the ring. Bruce went because he’s an intrusive jackass.

The planet didn’t realize their off-planet communications were malfunctioning until the two earth heroes arrived. Looking into it found them a gang that was stealing government technology and trying to escape off of the planet. Of course Hal and Bruce helped capture the criminals and in turn got a time bomb strapped to their ship’s engine without their notice. It blew up far enough away from the planet that it really wasn’t worth it to try to go back for repairs or wait for a pickup.

“Damn that little weasel. I’ll fucking kill him.”

Hal may have had a direct one on one with the criminal that quickly noticed their presence and attempted to use their ship to escape. Who knew that smug smile as he was caught in glowing green binds meant the shitbag planted a bomb. Who would have thought those little shitheads would’ve had enough time for a quick revenge scheme before they even got arrested.

“Lantern, get in the pod.” Bruce was done with the angry mumbling from Hal.

“You go, I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to fly all the way back to Earth from here like this.” Bruce didn’t even glance to the disaster that was the back of the ship and slowly crumbling up to the rest of it.

Hal heard himself. He knew it was illogical. Even without the ship it was a far journey for his ring to make. But honestly how the hell were they supposed to fit in that one seater pod? They took this ship specifically because of how fast and reliable it was. There weren’t supposed to be any problems. Sure the pod was good enough for two if needed but was it really necessary in this case?

“I’ll be fine,” Hal said.

“Lantern!”

“I charged the ring before we left Earth!”

“Hal, get in the damn pod.”

“Fine.”

Bruce got in first and sat in the chair. Just as Hal jumped in, Bruce slammed the door shut on Hal’s back before he could fully enter. Fucking asshole. Even if the quick action was in response to the fire spreading, it pissed him off.

Hal landed half against the seat, sitting on his left leg. His right one was sprawled in a stretch over Bruce’s thigh. One arm pushed against the back of the seat keeping him upright while the other rested on Bruce’s chest. He kept jolting forward while Bruce tried driving one handed with Hal restricting his right field of vision.

“This isn’t working.” Hal let out a frustrated sigh.

“Obviously.”

“Not in the mood for your shit, spooky,” Hal said through clenched teeth.

The men shuffled a bit, Hal trying not to jostle Bruce too much. The frustrated mumbling was not helping Bruce’s temper. This idiot was going to get them both killed because Bruce couldn’t see where the hell he was going. Or just egg him into a fight and they’d kill each other before the crash.

“Enough,” Bruce grunted. “Just sit on my lap.”

The wary look was warranted no matter how serious the comment was. Maybe especially because it was said with such a damn straight face. By this point Hal was sure Bruce had hit his head from the blast of the explosion. Brain damage was the only explanation for a comment like that. Those two in particular didn’t need to touch each other any more than strictly necessary.

Hal was going to do something to get himself strangled, he was sure of it.

“As flattered as I am, spooky, I don’t really think now’s the time.”

“...”

“Geez, try to lighten the mood and get crickets-alright I’m moving!” Bruce yanked the blabbering idiot’s arm to the side.

Moving up and over wasn’t the easiest thing to do in Hal’s position, but finally sitting on something other than his awkwardly folded leg really helped him relax. He let out a sigh as he massaged the muscles around his knee. That was much better. His knees were resting on either side of Bruce’s thighs and his hand was now pinning Bruce to the seat. Hal hadn’t immediately noticed that his arm resting next to Bruce’s head brought the two men much closer together than would be considered polite in everyday social interaction.

He opened his eyes and blinked at the deadpan stare barely a centimeter away from his own face. The awkward laughter got Hal a glare and more silence. Obviously this situation was going to be awkward, how did Bruce expect Hal to act? It’s not like Bruce wasn’t fucking gorgeous or Hal didn’t use him as spank bank material every now and then or they’ve never had this much physical contact before unless in battle and one of them was dying or severely injured. What sane person wouldn’t be trying not to pop one if they were on Bruce Wayne’s lap? Or hell, even Batman’s. Tall, dark, and hot with both identities. Somehow the asshole factor didn’t contradict the boner.

Before one of them said something to make the situation worse, Bruce grabbed Hal’s hips and began twisting him around.

“If you turn around, you can actually sit on the chair and not cause me gangrene,” Bruce said.

“Was that a quip at my weight? Weak bastard, aren’t you a  _ superhero _ \--I’m moving! Calm the fuck down, Jesus.”

Hal sniped about Bruce being handsy but didn’t fight him on turning around. Oh yeah, this position was so much better. Hal sighed in reluctant resignation. His back was to Bruce’s front and his ass was against Bruce’s crotch. Great. This was going to be a long ride.

Hal internally snickered at his own joke.

Bruce grunted, “Lean further back. I can’t see.”

Silently and obediently for once, Hal did as told. He suppressed a shudder when Bruce’s chin rested just above his shoulder. The ship flew steady now that Bruce could easily reach the controls and had a better view of the entire windshield. Hal sighed and relaxed into the broad chest behind him. The man might as well get comfortable. It wasn’t worth a back ache to be stiff and nervous the whole ride back. Besides, this was actually a great opportunity. It was almost like feeling Bruce up without getting in trouble for it. Or he could not be a creepy fuck and just think about getting home and sleeping in his comfortable bed. Out of his confining suit. Naked. Maybe having a nice jerk session to-

As Hal’s muscles relaxed, Bruce’s tensed. He wasn’t expecting the man to be so accommodating in such a strange position. The man was clearly smart enough to realize that was their only option. Unless Hal wanted to drive, but they both knew Bruce would full on fight him on this tiny ship before sitting in between his legs and have that annoying mouth snarking in his ear.

Bruce tensed further as Hal shimmied down, slouching his hips forward and leaning back further to rest his head half on Bruce’s upper chest and half on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?”

The deep gravel of Batman’s voice came with warm breath right against his ear. Hal couldn’t hold back a shiver at the pleasant feeling.  Bruce of course noticed and turned almost concerned.

“Are you cold?”

Hal rolled his eyes, “No, I’m fine. Just getting comfortable. Mind if I nap?”

“...You can’t be serious.”

“C’mon spooky, gimme a break,” Hal stretched his arms up as much as he could in this position. “I’m ti-i-,” yawning to emphasis his point.

The sigh in Hal’s ear gave him goosebumps, but it seemed that Bruce relented. Time to take a fucking nap and not deal with this trip until he woke up. Hopefully he was tired enough that he could sleep through most of it. No need to have Bruce asking about the twitching every time the man talked and his hot breath caressed Hal’s neck and his deep voice vibrated against Hal’s ear all the way down his side.

_ Go to sleep, Hal. _

He wasn’t sure how long he slept for but he was having a fantastic dream. Which was why it was a little disorienting to be woken up so suddenly. What was Bruce’s problem? He agreed to let Hal sleep so why was he waking him up? Selfish asshole.

Bruce decided to let the man sleep. He really did seem tired. It’d be best if at least one of them could get some rest while they had all this time. This is of course ignoring the fact that Hal stretching against him short circuited his brain a bit. The casual act of arching back flush into Bruce was surprising. It was strange how comfortable Hal seemed. He fell asleep almost immediately. It was admittedly nice. Quiet. For roughly two hours, the man was able to sleep peacefully.

Which is why Bruce almost jumped at the sudden loll of Hal’s head, tucking itself into the crook of his neck. Bruce took a deep breath through his nose while Hal let out a soft hum. Bruce tried desperately to slow his heart and ignore the continuous exhaling caressing his skin. Then he noticed Hal was mumbling something.

“Mm…” Hal turned his face further into Bruce.

Bruce allowed himself a smirk. The idiot was very comfortable apparently. Well that was good. Maybe he’d stay asleep for a while longer, giving them both a good long break from his yammering. Besides, it’d be quite the spectacle when the moron realized he actually fell asleep in Bruce’s lap and cuddled into his body heat. Maybe Bruce would play up that description a bit just to see the man squirm.

“Mo…”

Or Bruce would have another thing to bitch about. Apparently even sleep eluded his mouth’s ability to just stop.

“Yur s… yeah… mm…”

It wasn’t exactly fair to be angry at a sleeping man who was unaware of what he was doing. But he couldn’t help it if everything Hal did grated on his every nerve.

“Wan’ mo…”

Though, these little mumbles were causing a raised brow more than annoyance if Bruce was being totally honest. 

“Yesss mre...”

That last phrase if nothing else, connected the broken pieces well enough to make anyone uncomfortable at hearing them. Bruce’s heart rate stuttered and he had to close his eyes for a moment to fight the heat in his cheeks. He glanced down to see Hal’s face contorted in what was probably pleasure.

“Co’… cookies…” A soft moan then slipped from Hal’s lips.

Bruce started at that, brow furrowed and mouth firmly in a scowl. Hal let out another sound of pleasure causing Bruce to kick the sleeping menace  _ hard _ . What an absolute nutcase. Moaning in his sleep for fucking cookies. Only someone as absolutely maddening as him would have practically a wet dream about cookies.

“Ow! Wha’ the fuck?” Hal, still half asleep, woke in a daze of anger and confusion.

“Hm? Had a bad dream?”

“Like hell. You fuckin’ kicked me!” Hal sat up as he woke more fully.

Bruce didn’t deny it but also didn’t agree. He simply told Hal that he was snoring. The man could take it as snoring himself awake or Bruce kicking him because he was snoring. It didn’t matter.

“Yeah right,” Hal snorted, interpreting it an excuse. “Fuckin’ kicked me,” he mumbled, “What’s your problem?”

The moaning was over and the griping started. Bruce was honestly relieved. He didn’t know if he could deal with a begging Hal in his lap. But even in its absence, Bruce couldn’t help glancing down every once in a while at those lips, long past Hal getting tired of his own grumbling. In fact, the man quickly seemed pliant again, comfortably resting against Bruce to give him an ample field of vision.

Bruce let out a frustrated breath and gripped the controls more firmly. This was getting ridiculous. He needed to focus on getting them home as fast as possible. Or at least getting within range of telling someone where they were. Maybe they could have a larger ship pick them up to get them home faster. Wouldn’t that be nice. Getting away from the loud brunet that was jackhammering his heart. Thankfully Clark wasn’t with them. He didn’t need any frustratingly knowing looks from the intrusive bastard.

What he didn’t expect was to glance down and see a slightly gaping mouth deeply inhaling and exhaling. Bruce held back any verbal reaction. Maybe Hal had fallen asleep again? No. His eyes were open. He seemed to be in a daze. He was… He was daydreaming. About what? Baking? Bruce almost laughed at the thought. It was plausibly food. The man loved his stomach. Or maybe a different type of fantasy. He seemed the type to be into trying new things. Desserts in general weren’t an unusual addition to most bedrooms. Or maybe behind all that bravado and flirting he was pretty traditional. Maybe he liked missionary more than anything, to be close to his partner while they grinded. Close enough to smell the sweat, to taste it on a hot neck, taking breaks in between the mauling of the sensitive skin to lick into moaning lips that were waiting open and ready to be filled with something warm and wet.

That’s when Hal sat up even straighter and said, “Enough with the twitching and the breathing.”

_ Breathing? Oh. _

Hal’s face was flushed and he unconsciously pulled on the ear closest to Bruce’s face. More specifically, closest to Bruce’s lips. With his racing thoughts, Bruce must’ve been letting himself get worked up in Hal’s ear. He was almost mortified until his gaze passed over Hal’s lap.

That was new. Bruce paused for only a moment to consider the thought before moving. He took a steadying breath and leaned in further, pressing his lips to brush lightly against Hal’s ear. “I’m sorry,” he rumbled lowly, “I didn’t realize I was making you uncomfortable.” Hal couldn’t repress a shudder. Interesting.

Hal was suddenly hyper aware of his body. He almost flinched at Bruce’s soft lips brushing against his ear, allowing hot breaths out with every word. Then again at Bruce’s hand relaxing down onto the man’s thigh, fingers brushing up against Hal’s own. It made him simultaneously want to lean into the touch and pull away. With anyone else, it’d be an easy action to ignore. But Bruce didn’t make accidents like that. Every move was deliberate, thought out, made to provoke a certain response or get some kind of intel.

“Alright spooky,” Hal released a shaky breath, “What the hell are you playing at?”

There was a pause. “Who’s playing?”

Hal released a stuttered exhale at the feeling of the hand slowly sliding up onto Hal’s stomach. The hand stopped but the fingers kept gently petting. If he didn’t know better, Hal would say he was being felt up. But that’s not possible. Not grumpy Bats of all people, always disapproving of anything Hal. His cock twitched, as if trying to reach into the hand. Suddenly, he was being cupped with a firm grip.

The sharp inhale was music to Bruce’s libido. As was the hard rock under his palm.

Hal let out a strangled sound as Bruce squeezed. He leaned back as if trying to get away from Bruce’s hand, but he didn’t protest when the hand started rubbing against him slowly, up and down in the perfect wave, a wonderful pressure Hal didn’t realize he needed.

The cock felt so good in Bruce’s hand. His breathing picked up with Hal’s and he watched the man’s eyes close and his eyebrows furrow. Biting his lower lip, Hal’s eyes opened, almost as if he snapped himself back into reality.

“Don’t think,” Bruce whispered in his ear. Hal laughed. _ Bruce _ was telling him that? Maybe he hit his head in the explosion.

“You sure about this?”

Bruce simply responded by telling him to take off the suit. Hal hesitated only a moment before letting it disappear back into the ring, revealing a simple button down and jeans. He bit his lip as Bruce let his other hand off of the controls, setting the pod on autopilot while he unbuttoned Hal’s shirt. With each button popping, Hal arched his back further. He wanted more skin, more direct contact. He turned his head back and released an unintentional whine. Bruce didn’t hesitate to lean towards the lips searching for his. Their mouths met with an awkward strain of necks. Sliding his hand up the back of Bruce’s neck, Hal positioned Bruce’s head at more of an angle and forced the lips harder against his own.

A calm heart was a lost cause at this point. There was no point in Bruce attempting to hide anything or Hal trying to play it cool.

He pulled Bruce’s cowl back to brush his fingers into that soft, over conditioned hair. The moan from the accidental tug brought a sly twitch to Hal’s lips and he slipped his tongue into the other man’s open mouth, tugging his fingers harder in the dark locks. Bruce didn’t finish opening the shirt, distracted by the wet heat he was sucking into his mouth. It circled his tongue slowly and pulled back to lick at his lips before slipping inside again to repeat the movement, coaxing Bruce’s own tongue out to play with Hal’s soft lips and salivating mouth.

Bruce slid one hand into Hal’s half open shirt to feel the man’s hard chest and perked nipples. The touch was firm and deliberate, carefully mapping out every dip, every hard plain and soft patch. The movements slow, intentionally trying to feel every muscle, every beautiful part of the beautiful man. The attention caused Hal to twitch and writhe, especially when he realized Bruce’s  _ hands _ were on him.

“Fuck, when did you take off your gloves?”

Bruce ignored the question in favor of reaching his other hand between them to play with his own clothes. Hal yelped at the uncomfortable menuvure and scooted forward to avoid the hand digging into his lower back. A few long seconds of rummaging and- _ oh _ -Hal watched Bruce’s cup fall to the floor.

With a rough grip on Hal’s hips, his ass was suddenly being pulled back against a hard cock, and damn if that didn’t get him going. His heart rate shot up and he automatically undulated his ass against the suddenly uncovered area trying to force itself between Hal’s still clothed asscheeks.

Hal felt a wet tongue lick a path up his neck to his ear, swirling around the center and tracing the edge up, down, to then finally pull on the lobe with sharp teeth and a deep growl. It caused Hal to grind back harder and whine.

“Touch me. Please,” Hal breathed.

“What was that?” Bruce’s heart stuttered at the word. He needed to hear it again.

“Touch me,” Hal repeated.

Bruce shook his head, “Not that.”

“Begging, huh? Figures,” Hal let out a breathless laugh, “Controlling fucker.”

That earned him a slap on the ass.

“Ah!  _ Please _ , damn you.”

Bruce nipped at Hal’s neck a little harshly for the tone but couldn’t deny how the word made him feel. He reached down from those beautiful hips that wouldn’t stop moving to undo the man’s pants. He let out a breathless chuckle at the whispered mantra of, “Yes, yes, yes,” from Hal. The boxer briefs were soaked with precome, outlining the waiting head.

Hal’s hips twitched forward in anticipation. Everything was happening so suddenly and he couldn’t care less. That rough touch was all he wanted. That firm grip that would leave an imprint on his hips, those intentional thrusts that left his breath ragged, those practiced movements efficiently finding the sensitive bits that made him sing.

It took an effort Hal didn’t think he possessed to not to grab those too patient hands that started to wander aimlessly along his front. Hal wasn’t known for his patience and it was cruel to exploit that fact. Every pass over the nipples made him jump. Every scrape over his pecks made his back arch. Every goddamn chuckle got Bruce a tongue shoved down his throat. His head shot back in surprise when Bruce finally reached inside his boxers to stroke him properly. The build intensified quickly. Both men hummed at the feeling of Bruce grinding up and Hal pushing down at a matching pace. It was impossible to notice how far gone Bruce was until the pace on Hal’s cock turned sloppy.

“That’s it baby,” Hal whispered, “Just a little more.”

Bruce shook at that voice while warm come splattered on Hal’s lower back and soaked down into his boxers. Bruce barely waited a moment before steadying his grip on Hal to fuck up into. His hips stuttered to reach the firm hand while his stomach coiled tighter and tighter in pleasure. The stickiness on his back and the grunt in his ear pushed Hal to quickly catch up. He pulled Bruce’s head around to crash their lips together as he quickened his pace, undulating into a trembling mess all over Bruce’s hand.

The frantic kiss calmed into a soft caress of each other’s mouths, gently enjoying the warm contact of lips and occasional glide of tongue. Bruce laid his hands back on Hal’s hips, getting a wince in return.

“Sorry,” Bruce mumbled, barely moving away from the kiss. “Turn around.”

Hal complied. He straddled Bruce’s lap and went back in for a less neck-straining experience. Both men running fingers through each other’s hair, feeling up and down each other’s bodies to reach for anything they didn’t touch in the horny frenzy. They enjoyed the glow for longer than either expected before the peace was interrupted. Pulling back was an effort that ended with them touching foreheads and smiling at one another.

“Who woulda thought,” Hal said.

Bruce raised an expectant brow, immediately regretting encouraging Hal to continue speaking.

“All that attitude was just you pulling on my pigtails.”

Bruce’s frown was so sudden and so deep that Hal couldn’t help the belly laugh he let out. Bruce shoved Hal into the wall next to him so he was an awkward crumple of limbs in the small space. The position wasn’t comfortable for Bruce either but to hell with it.

“Really? We’re doing this again?” Hal complained.

There wasn’t any real anger to the violence but Hal deserved some kind of punishment for the snark. It wouldn’t be right to let him get away with the behavior just because they fucked. Postcoital cuddling would not equate to positive reinforcement for the bad behavior.

The pod’s speakers suddenly beeped, distracting the two men from each other for a moment. They didn’t expect to be able to reach anyone for a while so it was a bit surprising to have someone trying to contact them.

“‘Lo? B-tma-”

The few broken phrases that got through sounded like Superman There was some static and a few more incoherent messages before a crisp voice cut through.

“Batman, Lantern, check in damn it!”

Hal almost laughed. “Aww Supes, were you worried about us? We ran into a little trouble on the way back but we’re fi-”

Superman heard a thud, an indignant  _ ow, _ and some shuffling before Batman’s voice came through.

“There was an incident and we had to use the escape pod. We’re uninjured but were too far to be able to send out any signals. If you can contact us, it shouldn’t be difficult to reach base, however it would be much quicker with a jet.”

“Got it,” Superman nodded, “Someone will pick you up soon.”

The call ended with an exchange of coordinates and an awkwardly silent few seconds of Bruce and Hal not looking at each other. It was idiotic to expect this exchange to go any other way, Hal thought. The two of them got hot and heavy and then stick up his ass had to revert back to his clenched behavior when it was all over. Hal would be insulted if he didn’t know who he was with. Apparently not even sex could get tall, dark, and serious to relax.

“So are we going to talk about how you can’t take a joke or-” Hal’s remark was cut off by Bruce’s face. Not an unwelcome mashing of lips, mind you, but a surprising one.

“Shut up.” Bruce said in between kisses. “You are the most infuriating person I have ever met.” Another kiss.

Or Bruce wasn’t as angry as Hal thought, if he was angry at all. This playful attitude needed further exploring. And who better to push those boundaries than Hal Jordan? It’d either lead to both of them on mandatory bed rest or both of them on  _ bed rest. _ Some angry bed time would probably do them wonders in meetings.

“I guess I’m okay with it if I get treatment like this.” Hal flushed at the endearing pampering despite the concurrent insulting.

Knowing them, unless their mouths were otherwise occupied they’d spend the rest of the wait bickering if not flat out brawling. So Bruce smirked into the kiss and pulled Hal’s face closer. They might as well enjoy the rest of their forced confinement.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope that was to your liking!
> 
> Always happy to hear critiques, tips, suggestions, prompts.


End file.
